January 13th, 2009

[info]doctorroberts in [info]lechance


Each morning, Paul held open surgery hours from ten until twelve. Each afternoon, he received appointed patients from two until five. Each Tuesday he paid visits where necessary, which meant that Tuesday late morning found him walking home for lunch, pausing with a smile to raise his hat to the person approaching along the sidewalk, and moved to the roadside to allow them to pass. "Good morning to you."

[info]lacemaker in [info]lechance


Effie was taking advantage of the warm weather, and sitting out on the porch of the house with her pillow on her lap. Her feet were tucked up on a stool, as she still had lingering nerves about whatever those metal skittering things had been returning, and she was certain those had been responsible for the damage to her threads. Such a little thing, in appearance, but so much to her. The box of threads was at her side, another box of bobbins next to it, and she was trying to wind pairs to start the next pattern.

Trying. The thread came to an abrupt end again, and she swore fervently, very Glaswegian and thoroughly unladylike, before glancing up and blushing hard, eyes widening as she caught sight of the person passing on the street. "Oh, I'm that sorry, ye'll forgive me, please, for saying such?"

[info]jonstanton in [info]lechance


Jon was still seeing red every time he thought about Ben's mother's letter to him. How dare she presume to know anything about him or their marriage. Jon could be a decently laid back guy at times, but the way she'd messed with Ben's head was crossing the line.

He was currently sitting at the in, a glass of whiskey between his hands, but the drink was untouched. Jon's knuckles were fair near white from the way he was gripping it.